The Light of the Gods
by Betty More Fishe
Summary: When Draco learns the Dark Lord has truly returned he flees not wanting to become his servant.  Draco has a special Power. Harry is a Veel and Draco is his mate!


They called it the light of the gods, but that's muggles for you, they always seem to get things mixed up. Once a muggle mistook _my _father as an angel, and now they think _I've _got some holy light that was said to be only given to the most honest and true of warriors, I call bullshit. Anyway, since muggles have a name for this stupid power, and apparently wizards don't, I'll call it by their name, light of the gods, God's light.

When I first used the light of the gods, I was nine, I had visited some slightly estranged relative with my father, who had promised my mother he would keep one eye on me at all times, even then I knew what a liar he was. We had barely been there a few hours when my father begged out of dinner, and even though his act was impeccable and everyone truly believed he had come down with a sudden headache, I knew it was all a lie so he could check out our relatives stored dark arts collection, see if there was anything he wanted to borrow. He left me alone with virtual strangers, known for having an even darker reputation then even my father.

Like the good little boy I had been trained to be, when my father had left I turned back to my food and slowly carefully cut up… whatever the hell they had served us for dinner. I had just plunked a bite into my mouth when I looked up, and there was a man, who had the same white blond hair as the rest of the traditional Malfoy line. Normally seeing someone with the Malfoy hair would have calmed me, but the look in his eyes, made my blood run cold. I had seen a look like that before, in my father's eyes, right after he had tortured some muggle woman in our dungeon.

My father had been what muggles would call 'abusive', but even if he was hitting me or casting a painful curse, he always had a level of control, he only beat me because it was the only way he knew how to teach me. Family Tradition is a hard thing to break. So even when my father broke my ribs, I was never truly terrified, sure I was afraid, but I always knew my father was in control and he would never do anything to permanently damage me, not after all the trouble my parents went through, eight miscarriages, to have me. I might not be as smart or as big as my father wanted, being born three months before term tends to breed a small stature, but I was still his only son, the heir to his kingdom.

Looking in this relative's eye, I think he was my third cousin on my father's mother's side, I felt pure terror. Especially when he gave me a smile, that looked almost exactly like Aunt Bella's smile, right before she tried to strangle me the last time we visited her. I nearly choked on that piece of food, but somehow I got it, and the rest of my meal down, before politely asking to be excused, I was so terribly tired. His smile widened for a split secant before, like any Malfoy, he schooled his features into a frown and asked, "Don't you like me Draco? Do you not want to spend time with your Uncle Lamia?"

I had reassured him, as was only polite, that I really did like him and would love to spend time with him, but I was just so tired. The man, Uncle Lamia, had sighed, and said, "I was going to show you the Qudditch pitch, but if your really tired, perhaps your father wouldn't mind waiting an extra hour before your departure tomorrow?"

I perked up at the mention of Qudditch, just like any boy my age would. This man scared me, but it had been over a month since I had been anywhere near a broom, and there was no way father would delay anything on my account, especially since I was almost certain he would be 'borrowing' something from this man. Uncle Lamia began to show the way to the Qudditch pitch, and I might not have been the brightest of children, but when we had gone down about four flights of stairs, I _knew_ we weren't going to see any Qudditch pitch. My gut told me to run, told me to find my father because he was the closest thing I had to safe, but I didn't. When the door slammed close behind me, I screamed, but no sound came out. We were in one of the dozen of Malfoy family dungeons littering England, and for once I wasn't the observer, watching in slight horror and fascination as my father tormented someone. Tonight I was to be the tormented, and Uncle Lamia, gleefully put the family skills to work.

The light of the gods, didn't save me from the trauma of being beaten, raped and tortured, not necessarily in that order, more like all at once. I spent hours in that dungeon, I know because dinner was promptly at six pm. I went through stages of intense pain, numbness, and a few times I almost blacked out, but the manacles were designed to keep you awake, I know, I helped my father with the ones in our dungeon. It wasn't till I realized just how extensive the damage was, too much to be healed with even a double batch of Severus's best healing potions, that I realized, without any uncertainty, that I was not going to make it out of this dungeon alive. It was in that moment, when Uncle Lamia's hand tightened around my throat, cutting off my airways that the light of the gods finally activated.

That first time, it was explosive, and it hurt worse than anything anyone had ever and will likely ever do to me. It destroyed half the Manor, along with the manacles. I escaped, to discover the sun was about to rise, my father took the explosion as his excuse to flee, our carriage two trunks heavier. My father never asked why I was bleeding over his upholstery, I think he didn't notice because at the time it was the same color as my blood, but that might have been a hopeful son's thinking.

God's light, that first time, I didn't even get a look at it, it happened so fast, but something in me must have been permanently changed because each time after that, when I felt the sheer terror, it flared up. Once when I snuck out of the Manor and my father accidently sick-ed the hell hounds on me, thank god he hadn't actually watched his handy work, I could have never explained away the golden glow, for I know no spell that comes close to mimicking it. Another time I had snuck off during a vacation, when a muggle pulled a switch blade on me, he had gotten it in me once and was swinging for my neck to finish me off before it blew him away, no one was anywhere near enough to see. A few times, when I woke screaming from my memories, thank you silencing charms, the light nearly encased my entire body. Soon I began to think of the light as a curse, since it only showed up when bad things were happening to me. When I got my letter to Hogwarts, and my father bought me a beautiful wand, I prayed this was what I would need to keep that evil light away, and for a while it did. I didn't realize this at the time, but the light of the gods was some sort of defense mechanism, probably some obscure gene from the past, given to me by both parents in recessive form, it became dominant in me, only activating when I knew there were no other options left to me.

People called me the ice prince of Slytherin, because I was so cold. It's probably an accurate description because I felt no emotion. Emotions were never approved by father, and after everything, father was the only person I could trust, I knew where I stood with him. I tried to cast myself in the light of my father's wants, but I was a shadow, distorted, and not quite matching up except a few key places. I tried, but only out of obligation, not because I had any real zeal, I think even then I was tired of the mask, even when I had only first put it on, it was exhausting.

Fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament, When Harry Potter came back, with the dead body of Cedric Diggary, I didn't need to hear Potter's words to know what had happened. I knew, but still, I asked my father what he knew, and I silently prayed for it to be false. The dark lord had returned, and my father expected me to have the mark, as soon as possible. It's funny, how vicious and mean I was to other students at school, but I realized that I had been to them what my father was to me. I may have been horrible, but I had never crossed that line, I had never used one of the spells my father had used, the ones my Uncle had used, within the dungeons, and when I took the mark, I would be expected to.

That night, when my mother left for some big Gala and my father told me he would be gone for a few nights, I started packing. If I wasn't going to be a death eater, than I couldn't be a Malfoy, so I either had to kill myself or disappear into the one place no one would suspect. I would become a needle in the muggle haystack, and if I was really smart, I might even be able to transfigure myself to look more like the hay surrounding me, but that would come later. I gave each and every house elf specific orders, orders that would impress a muggle lawyer. Then I went to my favorite and most influential of the portraits, and with a few words I had them agreeing. If my plan panned out, my parents would not even know I was gone till the end of next week. I snuck into several of the vaults my father had stashed all over the place and put every single coin I found into my purse, with the bottomless and lightweight spells on it. I set several spells, so that if my father checked the Malfoy Manor Maps, he would see me in either my room or more likely the library, which was so big father would never bother looking for me in there.

As I packed, I transfigure my robes and wizard clothes into simple muggle clothes, jeans, plain colored T-shirts, I made sure to keep them colors I would never normally wear because of my complexion. I took the cloak my mother had given me, and transfigure it into a muggle leather jacket, it would still have some of the untraceable protection charms, and those could come in handy. Certain things, trinkets and beloved artifacts, ones not to complex, that I had checked for tracing spells, went into a side pocket of my trunk. I transformed my large bag of toiletries till all of the titles and wording was muggle approved. I dressed in a pair of semi-formal clothes, a nice shirt, nice robes. I had transfigure my trunk to look like a muggle suitcase, shrunk it till it would fit in my pocket. I had grabbed several of my mother and father's port keys, ones they knew they had but wouldn't be using till I was back in school. When they finally realized I'd gone they might check that. I spelled several of my toys to use the flow, each had a different place recorded to say as they entered and a few I even put a few added pieces. In One week one particular toy would head to the burrow, with an extra recorded message, with all the information I had on the dark lord, and my father, even told them a few things I had been thinking that were more speculative.

When I was packed and ready to leave, I cast another spell, and suddenly I was looking at multiples of my reflection. Each reflection took different exits, a few were secret, some where obvious, one even walked out the front door. I went out a side door, used the garden and trees to make sure no one saw me as I fled my home. When I was outside of the apparition wards, I held out my wand and apparated to one of our villas in France, where after walking for a way, I grabbed one of the extra port keys, that landed me close to the camp site from the world cup. I walked to the tiny village I had know was near, and grabbed the first bus headed out of town. I was in a bit of a bigger town, but I didn't remember the name, the town had a train station, so I waited about three hours for a train to London. I bought myself some food, because I had switched my wizard gold for muggle money over in France. I barely ate half my sandwich and ended up puking those bits up. By the time I got on the train, and eventually got off somewhere in London, it felt like days had gone by.

The first thing I did when I got into Muggle London, after renting a room at a shitty hotel, was buy a bottle of what muggles call hair dye. Aptly named, although it will dye anything it comes in contact with, not just hair. While heading to the cashiers counter, I also ended up grabbing a bottle of spray tan. Two hours later, I left the hotel room, a few stains worse for wear, a completely different man, and grabbed the first train that came. On the train I compiled a list of names, obviously if I wanted to stay hidden, Draco and Malfoy had to go, even though I didn't plan to go somewhere with other witches or wizards, I still couldn't risk some muggle repeating my name and getting caught. I chose Drake Kingston, only because I couldn't risk having the same initials, I would have preferred the last name Morgan, but it wasn't worth the risk.

I ended up in the muggle town of Presteign, Powy. I rented a shabby little room, paid for the first week up front. The only piece of furniture was a disgusting looking couch and a large pile of pillows. I told myself I didn't need furniture, I needed to immerse myself in this town, so they didn't catch on I was strange. The next day, after talking with a woman in a bookshop, the two of us gushing over our favorite books and our favorite poets, all muggle, the woman asked me. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

I looked into her eyes, I saw her soul, it was a good soul, and suddenly I was crying, real tears. Tears brought on from all the stress and worry and pain. I told her how my father was abusive, how he beat me for not being the fastest kid in a race, not being the strongest in a fight, not being the smartest in my class. I told her how I had been saving up every penny I could, for so long, and it wasn't much, but I thought it might last me at least until I was sixteen and could start going to school, but is was quick becoming clear I wouldn't make it more than a few weeks, but I was only fifteen, not old enough to get a job. I wasn't old enough to earn the money I would need to live by. That night Miss Grows had set up a cot in the basement on the little bookshop, which she owned, she gave me a key so I could go in and out as I wanted and had gotten me a job as a bus boy in some coffee shop.

The next day, after working a grueling six hours, doing a job fit for house elves, I headed back towards the bookstore. I know that some people, if they read this, would never believe Draco Malfoy would work that kind of job, but the truth was, I wanted to make this work, this place wasn't perfect and I didn't want to ruin my hands doing all this manual labor, but the risk of being caught here, was virtually non-existent. I was almost to the bookstore, and pretty much all of the shops were closed, but one shop was open, and it had big windows so I could see in, and watch the smaller kids kicking and punching one another. It turns out it was a muggle karate studio. Before it I had walked in, and the owner, Sebastian Hail, was introducing himself, said Miss Grows was his aunt and she had mentioned me. He asked if I knew any Karate, and I glanced at the kids, still play fighting and said, "Not really."

By the time I actually got back to the bookstore Sebastian had me signed up for a teens fight class, free of charge, said that between him and the other teens, I'd be a whiz at regular defensive tactics in a week. I worked at the coffee shop six nights that first week and met Sebastian all six nights, the other teens reminded me of people, so sometimes I would almost slip up, and call them names of people I knew in Hogwarts. When that first Sunday came around, and I had the whole day off, I was so glad, because I didn't plan to force my aching body out of bed. So for a day, I just let my mind wonder, let myself think about anything and everything and eventually nothing at all. By the end of that day I had figured a few things out, in my head, every time my dad had hit me, it was either my fault, or his father's fault, because that's how he was taught. I finally realized it was no one fault but my own fathers if he raised a hand to me, and it was no ones fault but my fathers if he chose his dark passions over his son. I was doing the right thing, not agreeing to torture muggles for nothing other than being born, and if my father couldn't accept that it was his fault too, not that I would ever see him in person again to tell him that.

Another week started, and I was light on my feet, excited to finally be free of all the burdens on my soul. I would work hard, get enough money to buy myself a little apartment, then invite Miss Grows over every Sunday for tea and become the best fighter Sebastian had ever seen. I wouldn't think about or worry over Draco Malfoy, because he no longer existed. For the first time in my life, I felt truly content, truly happy.

They found me, or maybe these death eaters just wanted to kill and rape this little village. I didn't have my wand, it was in a locker at the train station in London, and I didn't want them using that to trace me. I came out, and one of them was using the cruciatus spell on Sebastian, and another was getting ready to send a killing curse at Miss Grows. I had a Port key, just one, but it would get me away, but that wasn't an option. These people had been kind to me, they had put a roof over my head, gave me a way to feed myself, even helped me to learn magic wasn't the only defense. Thanks to these people I had had some happiness, I had had some trust. My hands glowed with the lights of the gods, and it was like I was watching from up above. Using my glowing light and the skills Sebastian had taught me, I easily knocked all of the men out, but one, I grabbed his throat and asked, "why are you here."

The glow from my hand seamed to go straight to the man's head, and his eyes glazed over, and said, "There was a possibility someone was here, we were ordered to attack and kill all the muggles in the town to try and bring them out."

My stomach dropped away, oh god, what had I done. I hit the man, on the back of his neck, knowing the hit would keep him unconscious for nearly a day. I grabbed the man's wand, and his fellows' wands, before running over to check on the inhabitants of the village. They were all gathered around a crumpled form, and when I saw it was Miss Grows, I felt like crying. A dark hex, some sort of slicing spell, had hit her in the stomach. I couldn't let her die, she had given me a small drop of light in my world of darkness, if she was gone, she'd take the light with her and never again would I be able to see. Suddenly I was clutching her head to my chest as tears spilled out, and the others gasped when I started to glow and the glow spread to Miss Grows. Suddenly I felt a pain in my side, but I ignored it, too wrapped up in my sorrow. The pain grew worse and as it did, Miss Grows seemed to recover. I looked down at the holes in her shirt, and the wound was replaced with healed skin. I smiled, than nearly whimpered at the pain. I grabbed one of the death eaters' wands and ignoring the pain I cast charm after charm. Individual protection charms on each of those gathered, then ones on the building, and a quick forgetful spell so none of them would remember anything that had happened that day. I grabbed my luggage and dug through it, with a quick spell I changed my leather jacket into a female muggle coat, exactly like the one that Miss Grows had been wearing this morning. I tied the death eaters up, really close together, before dropping the port key into one of their open palms. Once they were gone I snapped all but two of their wands. One I stashed in my sock, the other I put into my pocket right after apparating to the train station in London.

The pain in my side was horrendous, and I had to run to the men's bathroom before anyone could see me. I almost didn't recognize myself as I looked in the mirror. The only thing I recognized where my eyes, silver eyes so filled with pain, I could never forget them. My hair was dark, almost black, and my skin had a slight golden tone, that almost seemed natural if you didn't look at it carefully. My white T-shirt had a blossoming red stain across my abs. I checked to be sure no one was in the bathroom before setting a double lock and warning charm on the door, if anyone headed towards this secluded bathroom, I would hear a bell chiming. Once I was alone and relatively safe for the moment, I stood once more before the mirror and pulled up the edge of my shirt, nearly crying out at the pain.

It hurt and I didn't want to look at the wound, but I knew I had to, a quick review sent my mind off. The wound looked like a severing charm my father had used once. Not meant to kill the person right away, but to deter them from fighting, the more movement the more the wound bled, the damage the spell did to a witch or wizard was quite less than the damage it did to a muggle, I had never understood why that was, but I did know, the wound would have killed Miss Grows, hell it might kill me at this rate, but I had a higher chance at survival. The wound was bleeding a lot, and I knew if I didn't slow down the bleeding I would pass out soon. Wadding up the already ruined shirt I ground my teeth and pushed it hard against the wound. That nearly made me cry, it hurt so bad, but I kept up the pressure. I groaned when ten minutes later I had completely soaked the white T-shirt in blood. I only had a few precious minutes left at this rate. Reluctantly I pulled out the death eater's wand, the spells I had done earlier where simple, unselfish spells, but the healing spell I would have to use if I wanted to even slow down the bleeding, was complex. This wasn't my wand, I wasn't sure if I could do the spell with this wand. When blood continued to flow over my fingers I gritted my teeth, no backing out, do or die.

The secant I had done the spell, I knew two things, I had done the spell perfect, and the hex wasn't reacting to the spell the way I thought it would. The spell worked to start knitting the skin back together, but the pain was so intense I couldn't hold back my screams. Secants turned to minutes and slowly the skin pulled back together, but each secant felt like someone had put a cruciatus on my belly. It took all of my energy to keep the spell up, even through the pain. Finally, six minutes later, the skin had knit together enough, that the risk of it opening was quite small, I cut the spell off, knowing I would have a scar for the rest of my life, but I didn't care, I just wanted the pain to stop. When I finally picked myself up off the floor I grimace at the blood that was everywhere. Since I had already used a few spells what was a couple more, I set a cleaning spell to work at the same time I turned one of the bathroom stalls into a shower area and activating a hair growing spell, I got into the water, my pants and belonging by the sink. By the time I had washed away all the blood, and cursed up a storm at how bad it hurt, my hair was almost down to my hips, the tips still black from the dye. I shut that spell off, before carefully using a splicing hex to cut my hair so it was only shoulder length.

Looking at the blond hair in the mirror, I wanted to retch, but instead I cast a color change charm, one I had designed myself back when I snuck out of the house during the summer to go to parties. It would turn my hair and eyes a different color for a few hours, completely untraceable. I almost laughed when the spell turned my hair red and my eyes a strange blue, I could almost pass for a Weasley with this hair and those eyes. I had a spell on my luggage so if I rubbed it a certain way it would enlarge on it's own, and vise versa, that way I would never have to use magic and risk getting caught. After enlarging my suitcase I grapped a dark shirt, just in case I opened the wound, so it wouldn't show. I removed the locking and warning spells on the bathroom before heading to the Train Station's café, I had lost a lot of blood, and I needed to get some energy back before I could decided where the hell to go next.

Harry Potter woke with a start. The dream had felt like those times he had delved into Voldmore's mind, in the way that the memories where not his own, but where those dreams left him feeling ill, these dreams left him feeling a hungry, longing need. Harry had hardly been at the Dursleys a single night when suddenly he had grow violently ill, one secant wracked with chills the next he was burning up. The Dursley's had been forced to contact Dumbledore when Harry had begun sweating blood. Dumbledore had come and collected him, taking him to Grimwald place, where he was placed in a safe room to undergo his transformation. Apparently he had somehow inherited a dominant Veela gene, that first night he dreamed of white blond hair turning black as the owner fled. Who the owner was and what or who they were fleeing from was lost to him.

Dumbledore said, whoever was in the dream was his mate, and likely very powerful in his or her own right. Harry had blushed because he hadn't realized Dumbledore had picked up on him not mentioning the sex of the person in his dream, because he had gotten the impression it was a boy. For weeks, the now dark haired boy had been slowly growing happier, and even though Harry woke up with a need to find this mysterious person, he was still delighted, his body felt lighter knowing his mate was happy. His mate's happiness had given him the strength to finish the transition.

He hadn't really changed much, nothing you would really notice. He still had the same green eyes, but they were a bit brighter, a bit more captivating. His dark hair had grown out a bit, and even though it was still messy, it looked more intentional. He had bulked up a bit, he now had muscles in places he didn't even know he had, and his skin had taken on a golden tone, which he really thought worked for him. All in all, his appearance hadn't changed drastically enough to alert someone to his change.

He was content, still longing for his mate, but content to wait till school started, until now. His dream had been so confusing, and the golden light that had surrounded his mate confused him, he wasn't exactly sure how his mate had gotten hurt, he had the impression people around him where getting hexed but then he had felt the pain, that's when he had woken up. He had immediately had Sirius send Dumbledore a message, his mate was hurt, and in the morning he would begin searching for him. An hour after he had sent the missive out, Dumbledore arrived. He gave Harry a small smile as he led him away from Remus and Sirius, and into a room Harry hadn't know existed. Dumbledore shut the door and had Harry take a seat across from him before saying, "I completely understand your need to find your mate, but before you go running about looking for him, we need to figure out as much as we can about him. Harry, I need you to tell me everything you know about your mate, even things that seem completely useless can be the key to finding him."

Harry took a secant to think it over before saying, "The first night back, I got the distinct impression he was running, from what or who, I don't know, but I do know his hair color changed, at the beginning he had white blond hair, but as he ran his hair changed. I think he dyed his hair."

Dumbledore had pulled out a Quill and parchment out of thin air and was writing down Harry's words, word for word. Dumbledore gestured for Harry to continue and Harry said, "That first night he was afraid, the next night he must have settled down because his fears were slowly dissipating. By the end of the next day I was getting positive emotions from him. His mood and emotions where steadily improving, then something happened last night, I think the people around him were attacked. That's where I get confused. He was afraid and someone close to him was hurt, then there was this golden light, it practically blinded me, and suddenly I could feel his pain, he was injured, but I don't feel like someone hurt him."

Harry held his hand over his stomach, where he could still feel the pings of the wound. Dumbledore finished writing and then sighed. He set his Quill down, clasped his hands before him and said, "Harry I need you to close your eyes and concentrate on your mate, on the way he makes you feel." When Harry had closed his eyes Dumbledore asked, "Is he alive?"

Harry scrunched up his brow and said, "Yes! I would have felt it if he had died!"

Dumbledore said, "I know Harry, I just had to be sure. Now, can you tell me what hair color he has at this moment?"

Harry concentrated on his mate, and for a secant it was like he could see him, he frowned and the image faded. Harry opened his eyes and said, "He's got red hair, like Ron's, but longer. Looks like a girls hair, coming down to his shoulder."

Dumbledore lips tightened slightly and he asked, "One last thing, Harry, do you have any idea where he is?"

Harry, without even thinking said, "The London train station." Then he blinked, he didn't know how he knew that but now that he had said it he was certain it was true.

Dumbledore sighed and said, "Harry, I have some information you need to know."

Harry frowned and asked, "Do you know who my mate is?"

Dumbledore said, "I might, but let me tell you what I know and I will leave it for you to decide, I would not want to say my guess and have it be wrong. Approximately one week ago, a toy dragon came through the fireplace at the Burrow and gave us information on Lucius Malfoy, thanks to the information we were able to lock him away in Azkaban, permanently. The toy also gave us some information on who was death eaters and Voldomore, his location his goals now that he's resurrected. Severus, who had already suspected such, stated that the toy was Draco's, and that young Mr. Malfoy had virtually disappeared."

Harry frowned and asked, "Draco Malfoy is missing?"

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Not exactly. We believe that upon hearing from his father own mouth that the dark lord had returned, Draco planned to escape, for whatever reasons. Severus, as you might know, is Draco's Godfather. After seeing some troubling signs of abuse Severus took a few precautions, he placed several tracking and monitoring spells on Draco. These of course were low grate spells as to not attract attention and Severus was just getting close when news of a Death Eater attack on the muggle town of Presteign, Powy reached the order. Although, by the time we arrived, we were not needed. It appears that when the wizards attacked, someone attacked back. All of the Death Eaters arrived by port key outside the ministry gates, bound together and either unconscious or incapacitated. The Muggles memory of the entire day had been erased and very powerful protection spells had been placed on each of the local residents, their places of work, and their township. When we were questioning them, the local Karate teacher asked if we were looking for Drake Kingston, who had shown up two weeks prior and was for all accounts and prepossess the only person missing."

Harry frowned and asked, "Whose Drake Kingston?"

Dumbledore smiled and reached into his robe to retrieve a muggle photograph, which he passed to Harry. Harry glanced over the picture and was about to hand it back when suddenly his hands tightened around the photo and his eyes widened. The young man in the photo looked, at first glance like a stranger, with a sweet smiled, black hair and a slight tan, the young man looked almost nothing like Draco Malfoy, that is until you looked at his eyes, eyes that were like mercury flecked with silver. Harry gasped when he finally realized who the man was. Harry suddenly began to take notice of every stray detail in the photo, and the more he look the more his eyes strayed to Draco's hair. It was completely different then when he was at school but it looked so familiar. Then suddenly, the realization of a lifetime hit. Draco Malfoy was his mate.

Draco had never actually tasted his food before, at least not on a conscious level. He had really never had cause to, he always had food, had never really been hungry, except for the few occasions he had been sent to bed without supper because his father was in a poor mood. Even then he had always had access to food so he never worried about starving. For some reason, the long day at work, the use of magic and the light of the gods, piled on top of massive blood loss, had left him positively ravenous. He had ordered practically one of every pastry the café had to offer, which actually wasn't much, but when he first bit into that brownie he realized just how much he had been missing. His whole body lit up as he for the first time, he tasted and enjoyed his food. He took his time and was so absorbed in his food that he didn't see them approach him, until they sat down at his table across from him.

After talking to Dumbledore, Harry had gotten a hold of Ron and Herminie, who had been spending the summer together, since they had finally gotten together. It only took a few words to get them to come through the flow and head with him to London's Train station. At the front gates Harry closed his eyes and just focused on his mate. Moments later he was striding towards a discreet café towards the back of the station with Ron and Herminie on his heels. He felt a smile spread across his face when he saw Draco, he looked like any other Weasley, with the red hair and his mouth full of some sort of pastry. Harry took a seat in front of Draco, Herminie and Ron took a seat on either side of him. Herminie was trying not to smile and Ron didn't seem to be able to decide what he felt about the situation.

Draco looked up, blinked, once, twice, before a panic hit his system and he started for his wand. Harry smiled at him and said, "That won't be necessary, we're just here to talk."

Draco paused, and his eyes narrowed. Out of everyone he was expecting to meet, these three where not anywhere on his list. He wasn't sure whether they were even truly who they appeared to be, although if his father wanted to fuck with him he would pick someone like Pansy or Crabbe to impersonate. Not a very smart fellow, his father, never quite understood that Draco could never trust anyone with ties to dark arts or Slytherins, since he knew they were likely just as corrupt as the rest of them. Draco eyed the Golden Trio, trying to deduce whether they where the real deal or not. After a secant of inner debate, Herminie solved his dilemma by asking, "How did you manage to make that particular colored iris?"

Draco blinked, his mind finally seamed to decided that these in fact where the Golden Trio, and as he tried to deduce how the hell he got cornered by the Golden Trio he said, "Adfectio Amethy, changes both hair and eye colored for a couple hours."

Herminie seemed quite surprised Draco had answered her at all, let alone in a civilized manner. Ron frowned and said, "You look like Percy, if Percy where a girl."

Draco laughed, and it seemed to startle him as much as the Golden Trio, because he quickly cut it off and asked, "What do you want?"

Herminie frowned and asked, "What are you plans?"

Draco looked down at his hands as he carefully whipped his hand on a napkin, and said calmly, "I'm not an Evil Villain, and at the moment, I don't have any."

Ron said, "You always have some nefarious plot going."

Draco raised one eyebrow, and Harry was surprised when even his eyebrows were red. Ron frowned and said, "This is too creepy."

Draco rolled his eyes and asked, "Shouldn't the three of you be off saving the world?"

Herminie frowned and said, "We're only kids."

Draco's eyebrow raised a few more degrees and he said, "That never stopped you before."

Ron leaned forward and asked, "Can you change your hair, it's really freaking me out."

Draco leaned forward as well and said, "Not that I would waste the magic to ease your discomfort, but there are three muggles watching us from behind the counter as we speak, do you really want to risk doing magic in front of muggles?"

All three of the Golden Trio glanced over and noticed for the first time the three girls, obviously either sisters or cousins, who were standing quietly just a ways behind the counter. One of them was reading a book but the other two were watching them and trying to act like they weren't. Ron frowned and asked, "How did you know they where there?"

Draco raised an eyebrow and Herminie sighed and said, "Ron, they obviously sold him his food."

Ron glanced down at the table, as if noticing the assortment of food and wrappers for the first time. Ron frowned and said, "I've never seen you actually eat before."

Draco touched his temple and said, "Not that I don't thoroughly enjoy your company, but to what do I owe this pleasure, and how do I sick you on someone ells?"

Herminie frowned and asked, "Why are you rushing to get rid of us if you don't have plans?"

Draco sighed and said, "You right, I am an evil master mind with plans, trying to get you out of here so I can kill everyone in the vicinity."

Ron paled considerably and Harry said, "He's being sarcastic, Ron."

Ron whispered, "Are you sure?"

Harry sighed and said, "He's being rude because he's confused and in pain."

Draco flinched like Harry had slapped him and looked up with wide eyes. Since Harry was right, and there was no way he had given away he was in pain that had to mean Potter had used Legilmacy on him, and since Draco had been spending all his time with muggles he hadn't bothered using occlemancy in almost a weak, his mind was an open book.

Herminie frowned and asked Harry, who was staring at Draco's now shuttered expression in confusion, "Harry are you using Legilimacy?"

Harry's eyebrows drew together as he shook his head, then the light donned and he said, "Oh, no, I could just smell it."

Draco raised an eyebrow, and still shuttering his mind and his expression he did a quick sniff of his shoulder, he had a quite good sense of smell, and only caught the smell of the bathroom soap, retched that it was, it was still better than the smell of blood. Herminie sighed and said, "Harry inherited a dominant Veela charm."

Harry sent Herminie a glare, but stopped when Draco smiled and said, "That's quite rare." When the three just looked at him he said, "Potter's father was a pureblood but that particular line hasn't had a wizard with an active Veela gene since King Henry the eight was in power."

Harry blinked several times, he had never considered himself dimwitted but Draco was throwing him off. Ron finally asked, "How the hell did you know that?"

Draco sighed and said, "I know the history of every major pureblood family."

Herminie frowned and asked, "Since when is the Potter family a major pureblood family?"

Draco laughed and said, "They haven't been in a while but the Potters are descendants of Godric Gryffondor and the high king."

Herminie leaned forward and asked "Really? What's your source?"

Draco couldn't believe they didn't know this stuff. He sighed and said, "Exsanguis Codex."

Ron and Harry frowned, but Herminie clapped her hands in excitement and asked, "Really, you've read it, I've been trying to get a copy since secant year. Is it true it dates all the way back to the eleventh century?"

Draco smiled and said, "Depends on the family, a few families date back even farther, I have a copy you can have if you like."

Herminie squealed in excitement, causing Ron to look horrified and Harry to smile at his friends antics, until suddenly Herminie frowned and asked, "You just happen to have an extra copy?"

Draco shrugged and said, "I have four copies of the book with me currently, I don't know why I keep carrying them around."

Herminie's frown deepened and she asked, "How did you get four copies?"

Draco blew a strand of hair out of his face and said, "Just for reference, most Malfoy's would consider that sort of questioning an insult, but if you must know, I bought the rights."

Herminie blinked a few times before asking, "What?"

Draco groaned and asked, "Are you trying to get some secret slytherin information or something?"

Harry suddenly asked, "Why are you so convinced we're here for some repulsive reason as getting you to divulge information?"

Draco just stared at Harry for a moment before saying, "I'm a Malfoy, and a Slytherin. I've been in hiding for nearly two weeks and the three of you corner me as I'm trying to recover from a death eater attack, since no Auroras are present and none of you have attempted to go for your wands, I'm assuming you're here for some sort of information, which I have to admit I likely have, but if I'm going to give you any sort of information I want it out front in the open, you ask me for it and I give it, none of this trying to corner me. Quite frankly, if I hadn't just been eating some very good brownies that may or may not have had pot in them, I would have already either hexed you or knocked you out before getting the hell out of dodge."

The Trio stared at Draco for a moment, before Ron leaned toward his friends and asked, "Did either of you understand what he was trying to tell us?"

Harry shook his head and Draco was starting to grind his jaw. He definitely shouldn't have eaten those brownies, even if there had been pot in them it wouldn't negate the loads of sugar now streaming through his veins. He was trying not to show it, but his whole body was twitching, damn his mother for never letting him have sugar as a child. The sugar was making him antsy, the pain was making him angry, mean, and his confusion made it all boil over with, "What the hell do you guys want from me?"

Harry sighed. He could smell Draco's emotions, his discomfort, his pain, his confusion. He couldn't comprehend why they where there, so he was trying to rationalize it like they were his fellow Slytherins. He could also feel that Draco was very close to his breaking point, and if Draco was going to break, Harry would just have to help him in the right direction. So When Draco let out that shout and clenched his hands together, Harry stood up, leaned over the table, and planted not only a kiss, but a statement of his intentions, right on Draco's lips.

Harry Potter just kissed him, Draco Malfoy, on the lips. Draco was so shocked by that realization that his mind sort of turned off, and he did not notice when his hands started to glow slightly, not till Herminie asked, "Why are your hands glowing?"

Draco looked down at his hands, his palms alight with a golden glow, his mind slowly turned on due to shear panic, and when he finally felt the glow began to spread he did the only rational thing, and bolted for the bathroom that he had been bleeding all over earlier. He didn't even have to grip his stolen wand to do the locking spells. As he did the spells Draco realized something, using the energy like that, before it could build up proper, felt rather nice, especially to the painful and explosive use of his power when he normally used it.

He groaned, he could feel the energy growing under his skin. He looked around the bathroom and decided that if using the magic before it built up to an extreme was the only way to go, he would use as much energy as he could. He bolted into one of the stalls, closing and locking it and the other two in the process. It obviously wasn't enough, and before he could even think of something ells, the golden light spread through his entire body.

Exsanguis codex

They found me,

Harry gasped when suddenly a golden light flashed.

HarryPotter fanfic

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